Ok. Let's get a few things straight before I proceed. First of all, I wouldn't be half as great as I am if I hadn't run into this band of highwaymen back in 2005 and for that I wish to thank you. Marathoners are pretty much all insane, and so am I, so it was good to break out of the mundane world of English papers and philosophy courses that spring, stumbling first into #alephone (yo tux0), then into the Aleph One AIM chat, and finally landing feet-first on the original Pfhorums. It's been a wild ride! That first time around, I was member #2 (Switch, RIP, being member #1). I think this really shows. I've got a better memory of the early days and all times since than anyone else. Treellama relies on me as his index of annoying personalities, Ryoko asks about old maps; W'rk wishes he had the terrible Lua scripts I've got; and so on. I'm a one-man compendium of the younger online Marathon community.

But that's not enough anymore. As some of you know more than others, I've hit the bottle pretty hard since 2007. 2007 was a banner year, that's for sure, in a bad way. I started hating school, began doubting my writing abilities, and that's when I turned 21. I was never ever a drinker before then, but by God was I determined to make up for that! Summer 2007 saw my first "loch." Now you know why. Yeah, on the surface it was because I placed poorly in a mapping contest, but if you look below that surface, you'll see why such a trivial thing upset me enough for me to alienate my friends and countrymen on #alephone.

Let's not even think about Fall '07, when JUICE started looking like an utter failure, and when I returned home, defeated, after dropping out of college. After finding gainful employment and starting again with Marathon netgames, I found that I had an inexplicably horrible connection, which only cut me off further from this community. My hard-earned cash ceased flowing to video games, software, and other harmless enjoyments related to my experiences here, and ended up pooling in my bank account until I had enough to blow on weeks' worth of liquor. Who doesn't remember my attempts at appearing light-hearted when writing here of bourbon? Well, that was the tip of the iceberg. Liquor replaced meals. Liquor was the driving force behind some of my greatest accomplishments, like the initial design of Visual Mode Lua. Liquor is the only thing that makes JUICEcasts interesting.

Just Found Out was an attempt to channel my frustrated prose from the now-nonexistent outlet of fiction to thoughtful "community commentary." It was warmly received, so much so that I forgot my troubles during the following months, happily plotting my next Declassified Document or Where the Twist Flops or heaven knows what while I daydreamed at my job. I told everyone I was working on a novel (or at least a novella), but it was all smoke and mirrors: I was hoping JFO would be my novel, a novel that bared the soul of this small-yet-lively online meetingplace.

Concurrently, I began to appreciate strange things. I started liking the music of Boredoms, a Japanese noise rock group that I had formerly hated with a passion. I bought books on literary criticism. I started agreeing with people like Moppy, $lave, and Dade. None of these things was me, and none of anything I did at the time helped me write better. As a result, I started imbibing more and more brutally every night; from that came my invasion of the fledgling and harmless INFINITYS forumup board, my utter contempt for "ESB," and, ultimately, the severance of the only fulfilling relationship I had ever experienced in my life. The last point I countered by fabricating an imaginary relationship with "HFS," my "Hot French 'Sister,'" a young woman I had met in France as an exchange student. I even manipulated photos of myself with her for the benefit of my comrades on #alephone.

Things were obviously going out of control already, so when I saw Ari's Marathon Fanfiction, I didn't know what to think. I was a star again! I was both hero and villain! This man knew me better than I knew myself. He had written a work of original fiction while capturing my essence, the shape of my soul, and I had nothing of similar magnitude to show. I truly enjoyed that story. And on #alephone, I used it to promote my completely fake science fiction project, of which most of you have doubtless heard. I paid other users to pretend I had sent them some piece of the manuscript that they might give me real-time feedback on #alephone where other, uninformed persons might get the idea that I was a writer of some caliber. Sadly, this worked.

My thoughts of late, having started again on the apocalyptic work La Mort Le Roi Artu (The Death of King Arthur) and read again and again Derrida's Cogito and the History of Madness, are those of darkness. Something has poisoned me. I can't absolve my recent enthusiasm for Old French of its sinful origins, which lie in a fascination with terseness, compactness, and brevity, in which entire epics are contained in their entirety. I know from Derrida that my silence on all these matters (my lack of a language of Reason, until now) indicates deeper roots in madness. Last weekend I went out with a group of "friends" whose judgment is as poor as mine. I ended up injuring myself seriously under the influence of both alcohol and a woman's charms. The damage, as you might see, is catastrophic.

I'm sorry, let me get to the point: I have to leave.

I can hear this forum's 30,000+ members laughing from all corners of the globe. Who, irons? Leave?! this isn't the "loch" you guys know from before. Those were attempts to connect with a normal life away from here, mere pretensions. This time, I admit that I can't escape. Durandal once told us, "Escape will make me God." What does inability to escape make me? I think it makes me the Devil. I am a destroyer rather than a creator, a corrupt influence on everyone here, everyone everywhere. Who organized CLIQUE? Who put the merge flaw in JUICE? Who placed slate Ball objects in all of the levels in Paradise Lost? Who banned some of the best and brightest people from Pfhorums in 2005 and 2006? Who made a map pack so crude and blunt that it bruised the brains of netgamers until they could no longer appreciate real art like Ryoko's Red Spectrum? Who co-founded SImplici7y? The answer you're looking for in all of these is: me. Now you see why I have to quit.

I'm not just quitting Pfhorums, I'm quitting life. Oh, I'll remain alive, but it will be the vigor of a simple animal, capable only of eating and reproducing, if that. So before I do that, I want to say some things to specific people who have made one difference or other during my four years with you.

Treellama: I hate you. I have your number, you bastard.

Ryoko: I'm sorry about Multiplex. I knew it was my worst. But at the same time, sadly, it was my best. I hope TGI:BX can continue without me.

W'rkncacnter: Remember that time you were helping me test Wizards/AORPG and you were the Fighter in Thunderdome while I was Thief? You jumped to try killing me with a punch, but I stepped aside then stabbed you in the back. I feel like I'm doing that now... I'm sorry man.

Thermoplyae: I sent the Earth Mother 2 bribe to you via Paypal. I won't quit life until you confirm you've received it. Keep writing. We need more English majors like you.

Ray: What can I say? Tell HR I miss him and I wish he'd visit me some time in the institution. It gets lonely here. Say hi to Drong too.

Bridget: I ached for you all four years. "Art collector" indeed.

BenUrban: I was the one who stole the channel from you. SolraBizna is innocent. Please stop hurting him.

Grayswandir: I'm sorry I stole the Chilron drawings from you. I thought the world needed to see them.

Macsforever: I think we could have been friends in another time and place. Fare well, Daniel.

Forrest: I really wanted to tell you I loved you, but I never found the right words. I guess these will have to stand as a testament to my failure. Forever.

Appleswitch: Be proud to be a Texan. I once was. No more. (Someone pass this along to him so he can read it before 2009 ends)

Envy: I was wrong. Use Pfhorge. There is great power in its source code. It is your mission to unlock this power by pushing the limit.

Hawkeye: You can't really believe I hated you. You were like a father to me.

Erfe: Keep writing.

jht: I respect you and always will.

CLund: Five Finger Discount cost me my one and only prom night. Take that as you will.

Loren: I'll never forgive you for having broken films. Treellama deserves the glory you stole from him.

Wet noodles: I always thought your version of Skyscraper was an odd coincidence. I took no offense: I based Infinite Rhapsody off Tulips & Daesies.

Epstein: 2.71828183 * 3.14159265 * 299792458

Hux: The law isn't far behind you.

Lh'owon/Meta: Nice try, maybe next time.

Goran: I hereby give all copyright of your maps back to you.

Johannes: That Ciak was actually stolen. I think you'll like it better now.

Harold_pa: O IS NOT A FUCKING VARIABLE. Everyone is laughing at you.

The One: The institution let me keep my 3D glasses...

Dodopod: I never approved of your avatar.

Patrick: lol, you're me. I wish...

If I left you out, it's only because I have to leave now. For good. Don't expect to see me back here ever again. And no, this isn't one of "those posts," thanks for skipping to the end W'rk you cretin.

There are a lot of things going on here that I am truly oblivious of. If this is true, and I only have to assume it is, then there is no point in me posting any condolences. Iron's won't ever see them.That being said, I must say that I am more troubled by the state of his real life than of him leaving. I'm a struggling writer myself.Do take care, Irons, if ever you were to read this.

I was wrong. never heard that from you. i think ill say it back. i was wrong. I made Pfhorge look bad, because of my failures... i actually underestimated its power. for instance, on oasis, i set the player height to 4000. the box lacked the delta symbol, but Pfhorge made me pay for that. I only caught the tail-end of your activity here, but I honestly thought there was some reason for your anger, more than just obnoxiousness. I just found out I thought right. I've been there (without the beer, tho), I've been right where you are now, deciding to just screw it all, or to hold on a bit longer to whatever you have. These are all assumptions, btw, i am probably horribly off, and will look like a dumb-ass when you or somebody else who knows you tells me off. On the off chance I am right, though, I just want you to know that you should not give up on life. You focus so much on your failures and not at all on anything you did or anything you did that someone benefitted from when you get in a rut. "What does inability to escape make me? I think it makes me the Devil. I am a destroyer rather than a creator, a corrupt influence on everyone here, everyone everywhere. Who organized CLIQUE? Who put the merge flaw in JUICE? Who placed slate Ball objects in all of the levels in Paradise Lost? Who banned some of the best and brightest people from Pfhorums in 2005 and 2006? Who made a map pack so crude and blunt that it bruised the brains of netgamers until they could no longer appreciate real art like Ryoko's Red Spectrum? Who co-founded SImplici7y?"

think that proves one point.Think of the people who benefitted from your temper. I would have been annoying as hell, had you not put me in my place, and provided me with more proper forum etiquette. Simplici7y is a useful place to put my bad maps to have people inadvertently tell me all the problems while yelling at me. Skipping to some kind of point here, once you "give up on life", Everything gets so disappointing, and bad. My friend considered suicide as an option when he got like this. I personally go to rags and stop caring. It is not a place to be. Don't let yourself slip.

Man, I was so excited when you came back earlier this year (or just started posting again). That was really depressing for me to read. Unfortunately (or rather fortunate), that gives me the feeling I need to put emotion into my recent essay. But those words of mine, so fake. And for what? A number. A number that I hope raises another number. Which may, intern, give me a number (of cash) for college. But by that time, what will those words mean?

I better stop using up all my emotion in this. I will forever miss you irons. You have been sort of a mentor, even though you think yourself as the bad guy, you taught me an important lesson in internet etiquette. I really hope you do come back, if just to read this.

thermoplyae wrote:fine, consider this idolized thread, where dumb math is trussed up, beaten, and burned, which was praised by the whole lot of us. if my shame won't get through to you, maybe your beloved irons' will

Okay, so because I respected him, that means he is beloved to me?

*sigh* you know what? you win. i'm not in the mood for an argument. I'll go in the chair, try to come up with some lyrics, play my guitar, and maybe play a little xbox.